


american boyfriend

by noturmum



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, American high school, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Coming of Age, Football, Homophobia, House Party, M/M, Making Out, Sneaking Around, Teen Angst, Underage Drinking, also american football, american boyfriend, australian author tries to understand american high school, jock! chwe hansol, kevin abstract - Freeform, lapslock, preppy! boo seungkwan, what the heck is that lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 00:40:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16295009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noturmum/pseuds/noturmum
Summary: hearts beating, breathing.in.out.in.he sees him coming. a few feet away, talking with some guy from the football team. for a second, when he looks up and their eyes meet, seungkwan’s breath hitches, just like it does in all those typical coming-of-age movies, and he’s sure this time he won’t ignore him. that he’ll smile and wave and ask how he is.he's getting closer, and seungkwan raises his hand. hansol looks away. he walks on.out.-verkwan high-school coming of ageheavily inspired by kevin abstract's album american boyfriend, especially suburbian born.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *warning - underaged sex, it's consensual but they're like 17.
> 
> also there's a bit of homophobia and suggested violence. i don't want to write anything graphical but there's mention of it. i'm not sure where this story is going to go but hopefully it won't lead to that. if it does, the scene won't be graphic.
> 
> also i definitely overuse the word 'cock' but what can you do lol
> 
> not sure how often i'll update but i've almost graduated so hopefully i can get a few chapters in before all my exams.
> 
> anyway, enjoy! please feel free to comment any feedback, suggestions, etc. it's always greatly appreciated.

new day, same bullshit.

kids roam the halls, their voices blend together into a block of sound, unable to distinguish one conversation from another. there’s chatter about typical boring weekends, incomplete homework and a bullshit up-coming dance. weak sunlight washes out the hall. the rain outside keeps pelting, roaring winds and gloomy skies. metal lockers banging shut, the squeaking of rubber shoe soles, ticking clocks, slamming doors.

some kid bumps into seungkwan, though he doesn’t bother to spare an apology and walks on.

hearts beating, breathing.

in.

out.

in.

he sees him coming. a few feet away, talking with some guy from the football team. for a second, when he looks up and their eyes meet, seungkwan’s breath hitches, just like it does in all those over-produced coming-of-age movies, and he’s sure this time he won’t ignore him. that he’ll smile and wave and ask how he is.

he's getting closer, and seungkwan raises his hand. hansol looks away. he walks on.

out.

“nah, not really. my weekend was pretty boring…” hansol’s voice fades away as he walks down the hall.

huh, seungkwan thinks bitterly, painful ache in his chest. not how i’d describe it, personally.

~

“we have to be quick,” hansol pants breathlessly into seungkwan’s mouth, his hands pulling at the bottom of his shirt.

“i know i know,” seungkwan says, pulling away for three god-awful seconds to tug his shirt over his head. before it even falls to the ground, hansol’s mouthing at his neck – sucking, nipping, kissing. seungkwan groans as his head falls back. hansol’s hands slip down to grab at seungkwan’s ass, squeezing it and pushing their bodies closer. they press against each other, the pressure combined with the tension and the thrill of getting caught sends a rush of arousal through both of them.

“let me take this off you,” seungkwan says, kissing up hansol’s jaw, cheek, lips. “god this thing is ridiculous,” he says, struggling to pull hansol’s jersey over the shoulder pads. “ i don’t even know how to get this off. and you want us to be quick,” he scoffs. “shoulda thought about that before you put on ten layers of spandex.”

“it’s only three,” hansol tries to reason.

“you say that like it’s any better.” hansol tugs off the shoulder pads, though his base shirt still remains, clinging to his body, sweaty after fifty minutes of game-time. “ah, finally!” seungkwan reaches to touch hansol’s lean muscles as hansol removes the rest of his playing gear.

they waste no time searching each others’ bodies, hands roaming shoulders and chests, waists, hips, hands moving lower, lower.

“we’ve got, like, fifteen minutes before the boys start looking for me,” hansol says through a groan, pumping both their cocks in his hand.

“is that a challenge?” seungkwan asks into hansol’s ear with a cheeky smirk, tucking himself back into his pants. he presses a kiss to hansol’s neck then sternum, wet lips trailing down his stomach, to the crooks of his hip bones as he sinks down to his knees.

“is this alright? can i suck you off?” he asks, looking up from under his lashes.

“oh my god. you can do anything you want to me, just be quick,” hansol begs and twists his fingers into seungkwan’s hair. not wasting any time, seungkwan wraps his lips around the tip of hansol’s cock. above him, hansol moans loud and it echoes through the empty change room. seungkwan pulls off for a moment, spit connecting his bottom lip to hansol’s cock.

“gotta keep quiet if you don’t want to get caught,” he says teasingly, yet oh-so-serious, slowly jerking hansol’s cock from the base.

“fuck, yeah, okay,” hansol chokes when seungkwan squeezes around his dick lightly, tongue licking the underside of the shaft. seungkwan starts to bob his head, slipping more of hansol’s cock into his mouth. the hands in his hair grip tighter as he begins to suck around the shaft, kitten licking at the tip whenever he pulls off for a breath.

hansol whimpers and moans as quiet as he can, biting his lip. still, stomach muscles start to draw together, tensing, and his back arches. his heart is pounding, circulating the blood around his body to match the ragged and rough breaths. at the back of his mind, there’s the fear of his teammates walking in. there’s the fear of their reactions – disgust, anger, betrayal. violence.

there's the fear of it getting out. spreading rumours and hateful comments about both of them. the fear that seungkwan would never forgive him. the fear of hansol’s football career slipping through his fingers. of his parent’s hating him, disowning him, their shame and repulsion.

but there’s also the thrill. what really sets him on edge. seungkwan working his mouth on him, the feeling unreal, unlike anything he’d ever felt before. better than he’d ever imagined it’d be. his fingers digging into the backs of his thighs, his soft hair under his hands. the little slurping, wet sounds he makes every few moments, obscene and kinda gross but the hottest thing hansol’s heard simultaneously. seungkwan jerks him faster, his cock slapping against his bottom lip every so often. seungkwan sucks the head into his mouth and squeezes his balls lightly, his nose bumping the base of his dick.

this time he can’t stifle the groan, rushing out a breathy “i’m coming oh god fuck, i’m coming” before he spills into seungkwan soft, warm, glorious mouth. he takes it all, swallowing around his cock, hansol shivering with sensitivity. he pulls off and places soft kisses to his hip bones.

“holy shit,” hansol pants. seungkwan's still on the floor beneath him, his knees likely sore and cock throbbing in his pants. there's an awkward moment where hansol realises there’s not enough time to get seungkwan off, and they both need to get out of here in like a minute otherwise they’ll be caught with their pants down. literally.  
“sorry kwannie,” hansol starts. seungkwan rises to his feet, knee joints cracking.

“i know, we gotta go. it’s fine don’t worry about it,” he cuts him off. it doesn’t stop him from squeezing his cock through his pants, grunting a little at just how painfully hard he is. there’s a damp patch on the front and a deep flush over his cheeks. his lips are swollen, and he looks so beautiful. hansol can’t help himself but cup his jaw, bringing their mouths together for a tender kiss. it's bittersweet.

the aftertaste of his cum on seungkwan’s tongue is bitter. the fact that they’re about to leave in separate directions and pretend that they don’t know each other is bitter. the fact that they have to hide is bitter. homophobia is bitter. this fucking town and this fucking school. their families and the people who control and dictate their lives are fucking bitter.

the fact that he’ll never be enough for his dad or the perfect son his mum wanted so bad. that he’s subjected to another year of hiding himself, hiding his feelings, who he is until he moves away for college. that he feels so fucking trapped and suffocated and lost and helpless. and bitter.

but seungkwan’s lips are sweet. and his hands are soft. his touch is instinctual. he knows just where and how and when hansol needs him and he makes him so ridiculously happy. even though they never have much time together, when they do they make the wait worth it. they pretend to be the people they could be if the world were a different place. a better place.

seungkwan breathes out a sigh, and it’s sweet. he rests his forehead against hansol’s and just looks into his eyes, and it’s sweet. his fingers trace the veins of hansol’s arms, over the bony part of his wrist and his knuckles. he intertwines their fingers and rubs his thumb over the top of his hand, and it’s so sweet hansol’s eye begins to water.  
“one day –” hansol swallows. “one day we’ll have all the time in the world. and it’ll be just you and me. the rest of the world doesn’t exist and i'll make you feel so good and we’ll take our time and we won’t have to hide or be quiet or rush.”

“one day,” seungkwan says, hopelessness tainting his voice, but he kisses hansol’s cheek so sweetly nonetheless. “speaking of rushing, though. i better go now. we better go.” he gathers his discarded shirt and varsity jacket. his preppy satchel rests by hansol’s gym bag. it truly shows the contrast between their lives.

seungkwan's going to go home to a mum who won’t love him the same when she finds out the truth. to expectations of good grades, good behaviour and a nice girlfriend.

hansol’s going to go home to a dad who he’ll never be good enough for and a mum who’s just sticking around until all her kids haved graduated. to a football scholarship to a college that won’t care about his grades or what he’s got to say, only how well he plays on the field.

no matter how much they try to convince themselves and each other that one day, soon, after high school is finished and they’re off in the world all by themselves, it’ll be better, it’s just so hard to see it through all the bullshit that they have to go through for now.


	2. chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they meet for the first time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's back!
> 
> after long last, exams are done and i've graduated high school whooo. i'm going to say expect more updates soon but who knows? i clearly didn't live up to that promise last time lol.
> 
> pls enjoy this chapter and feeling free to leave comments and constructive criticism :)

like ever teen romance, the first time they meet is at a party.

their paths had never really crossed. they’d never had a class together, never had the same friends or the same interests. on top of that, hansol’s this big scary jock who the whole school knows and seungkwan is just a kid trying to keep his head down and study to get the grades his mum expects.

but as fate had to have it, seungkwan is dragged to a party by the very persistent persuasion of his best friend, chan. seungkwan's one hundred percent sure he’s not even meant to be here. chan was only invited because he dances a dude who knows a guy who is a friend of mingyu from the football team. as soon as he steps through the door, seungkwan knows immediately that he’s out of place.

for starters, he’s met with a couple making up furiously as soon as he walks through the door. there're shitty strobe lights that hurt his eyes in the otherwise unlit room. red cups that seungkwan swore were only a thing in movies litter the floor. people dance out of time; their intoxicated bodies just can’t keep up to the music being pumped through the sound system. the air smells like horny teenagers, bad choices and kidney failure in ten years’ time.

chan looks over to seungkwan with an expression of delight that contrast seungkwan’s of disgust. this is the first time chan’s been invited to something this ‘cool’. he’s finally living out all his teenage fantasies of getting blind drunk on a friday night of his sophomore year.

“isn’t this the best thing ever!” chan yells over the terrible music. it’s not a question. it's a statement as if seungkwan is about to whole-heartedly agree.

“absolutely not.” seungkwan says, arms folded over his chest and furrowed brows. “i can think of at least fifty-seven places i'd rather be right now, and number thirty-three is grocery shopping with my nan on christmas eve. i'm not fucking around, chan. this is shit.”

“dude, you need to lighten up. have a drink, make some friends and forget about this stupid thing you have with hating the entire school. have some fun, for fuck's sake.”

seungkwan's rebuttal is on the tip of his tongue when a skinny boy comes up to them. he looks even more out of place than seungkwan feels, his long hair and alternative style clashes with the genericity of everyone else. he looks like he came off stage with some underground indie rock band and seungkwan’s never been more intimidated by anyone in his life.

“hey channie, glad you could make it,” he says, pulling chan in for a hug.

“thanks for inviting me. this is really cool,” chan says as he beams up at the cool stranger. “oh, this is my best friend, seungkwan. seungkwan, this is minghao; we dance together.”

“it’s nice to meet you,” seungkwan says, shaking the guy’s hand, perhaps a touch too formal when there are teenagers grinding on each other three metres away. “i like your style,” he gestures to his outfit.

“ah thank you so much,” the boy is quick to be humbled and shake off the compliment. “i was just letting you know that there are drinks in the kitchen and that you’re welcome to help yourself. i'll be around. come find me later.” the last part is aimed at chan, and he flashes a shy smile before walking back through the house.

“minghao is so cool. how do you know people like that? since when we’re younger people allowed to have cooler friends than me? seungkwan whines.

“listen,” chan begins, “people always equate age with wisdom. the older you are, the more knowledgeable you are, the more accomplished you are, the better you are than a younger person, whatever. but the truth is that age is not a restriction to knowledge or experiences – only if you let it be. i’ve just ignored the doubts of other people who judge me for my age, as if i can help that. meanwhile, they’re concerned about others, instead of focusing on improving themselves. you hear all the time ‘ugh i hate seeing younger people were successful than me’ but let’s be real – you hate yourself for not putting in the effort earlier. you only envy me for having cooler friends, for being cooler, because you never put in that effort.”

chan is met with a very blank, very bored expression from seungkwan.

he huffs out a breath.

“fine,” he says. “it’s because i’m hotter than you.”

“you are not!” seungkwan says scandalously. chan smiles cheekily and rolls his eyes.

“maybe it’s because i talk to more than an average of three people that aren’t my family a week? have you ever thought about that?”

“whatever. shut up.” seungkwan huffs. maybe if he didn’t spend every minute of every day thinking about how people might be judging him, what he’s doing wrong, if he’s dressed weird or has food stuck in his teeth. how he holds himself, his voice, the way he walks. it's exhausting being a teenager and there’s a deep pull in his gut that he knows won’t shift until he’s away from this dead-beat town and these dead-beat people.

“hey! but now’s your chance. socialise and get to know some people!” chan offers, gesturing around the room.

“what would i even say? i'm the most boring person here.”

“well we all go to the same school – that’s a start. i guarantee you’ve seen most of these people before.” seungkwan still looks nervous despite chan’s attempts. “okay, how about we get some alcohol into you and then maybe you’ll relax? what do you think about that?”

“that doesn’t sound like an awful idea.” so they navigate their way through sweaty bodies, the sound of plastic crunching under their feet, to the kitchen. however, before they can even make it there, someone taps chan on the shoulder and seungkwan is left to hover awkwardly by his side as he slowly fades away from the conversation.

“seokmin is taking me to meet someone outside. do you wanna come with?” seungkwan hesitates for a moment while he contemplates his options. either he could go with chan and inevitable be excluded from the conversation (never on purpose; chan just gets a bit too absorbed, and none of his friends really know seungkwan) or find his courage, get intoxicated and talk to people he’s not going to remember in the morning. for once, chatting with random strangers outweighs trailing after chan like a lost puppy.

“nah, it’s all good. you go. i'm going to find something to drink and take your advice for once.”

“finally!” chan smiles with delight. “i won’t be too long. but text me when you want to go home if we lose each other.”

“sure thing. i’ll see you around.” chan delivers a light punch to his shoulder before he follows seokmin through the back of the house and into the backyard.

seungkwan makes his way to the fridge. there's a ton of disgusting looking beer shoved in beside a potato bake and an array of condiments. nothing tickles his fancy, so he shuts the fridge to begin his seek elsewhere. on the counters, aside from several girls giggling into each other’s sides, there are a few coolers sweating onto the granite. peering into the boxes and shuffling the ice around, seungkwan tries to figure about what wouldn’t be the worst if it were to come up tomorrow morning. carefully inspecting the labels, he picks up a few bottles before putting them back and sifting through more ice.

“need a hand?” a boy asks from behind him, humour lacing his words. seungkwan jumps a foot in the air, clutching his chest with a numb hand. the boy chuckles as he watches seungkwan splutter and calm down his heart-rate.

“i'm just trying to figure out what won’t taste like nail polish remover,” he splutters. he turns around to meet soft brown waves that match soft brown eyes and he feels his heart stutter in his chest.

“what do you usually like?” the boy asks through a cheeky smile. fuck if seungkwan knows a thing about alcohol. but this guy seems cool and vaguely familiar, so seungkwan wants to make a good impression.

“uhh what are you drinking?” he asks.

“just this beer at the moment. i wouldn’t recommend it though,” the boy says, punctuating it with a nose-scrunch.

“um okay then something sweet, i guess?” seungkwan decides to give up on the cool-guy persona that lasted a whole five seconds.

“here, try this” he offers and holds out a ridiculously pink bottle.

“thanks,” seungkwan says as he untwists the cap and takes a sip. it certainly is sweet but has a bit of a sour after-taste. but the more it fades, the more it tastes like raspberry lemonade, and seungkwan already has an inkling that this might be his drink of choice tonight.

“i'm seungkwan, by the way. junior year,” he says, holding his numb hand out to shake the guy’s.

“hansol, also a junior,” the guy says, gripping his hand.

“i feel like i’m supposed to know you…”

“um, maybe?” he scratches the back of his neck bashfully. “i play football for the school. that might be why?”

“oh yeah! of course. how’s that going? i’m not really one to catch up on that type of thing.”

“yeah pretty good, this season hasn’t been the worst. we have a tough game next weekend and only a few more weeks until finals, but our odds are looking pretty good.”

“oh well, i’m sure you’ll do great,” is all the support seungkwan can offer. he’s trying his best, but football is not one of his interests, not even in the slightest. “that all sounds very exciting.”

“yeah, for sure,” hansol says with a grin, but it looks forced, and his voice lacks enthusiasm. “what about you? what do you do?”

seungkwan swallows a large gulp of his drink before answering.

“nothing really,” he shrugs.

“huh? what do you mean nothing? surely you have a hobby?” hansol asks in disbelief.

“well, i singing. and poetry i suppose.”

“there we go. what else?” a sip of cheap beer. “what type of stuff do you sing?”

“mostly pop. i like stuff from musicals, too. and ballads. ugh, that probably sounds so nerdy.”

“no way, dude. that’s interesting. what music do you like?”

“bits of this, bits of that. jazz, alternative stuff sometimes. lately, i’ve been enjoying a song called dying in l.a,” seungkwan takes a swig of his drink and hums delightfully. “this is delicious, by the way! seriously, you can’t even taste the alcohol.” but he could definitely feel it, even within the first half of the bottle.

there’s a slight buzz underneath his skin and a warmth pooling in his stomach. maybe it’s because of the fact that he’s a lightweight and he can count how many full drinks he’s had on one hand. or it could be this sweet, handsome boy who’s paying him attention in a room full of more exciting people. and there’s something about either of those two options that give him the confidence to relax and say whatever is on his mind and with no fear of judgement from hansol, despite only meeting in now.

“do you want to go somewhere else?” he asks, very aware that they’re still in the crowded kitchen, blocking access to the cooler and probably throwing off the vibe of the kids making out against the counter.

“that’s a good idea. you lead to way,” hansol says and follows seungkwan to a quieter part of the house. there’s no space on the couch, and none of the chairs are free, so they lean against the wall.

“so you were saying – music,” hansol prompts.

“yes, dying in l.a. what a ballad. um, there’s also lookalike – that came out recently. there’s a song by this band cub sport, come mess me up. just some good songs, you know?” seungkwan swallows a sip as hansol answers.

“hmm, i can’t say i've heard some of those before, but i'll have to have a listen one day.”

“oh, you don’t have to do that,” seungkwan says, waving his free hand about. “what type of music do you like?” he asks just as hansol shifts to face him, one arm resting on the wall above him. while hansol’s staring out at the teens that litter the room, seungkwan can’t help but to admire his side profile. sharp jaw, soft lashes.

seungkwan’s taken back to the conversation when hansol finally answers.

“mostly rap. i'm not super keen on most pop music but artists like saba and atmosphere, tobi lou, brockhampton – that’s what i listen to. and i've been listening to this song drift by this guy towkio. that’s a solid tune.” hansol trails off and raises the bottle to his lips.

“well, it seems we have two very different tastes in music,” seungkwan laughs. “that’s cool though. i've never heard of any of them. i always forget how much music there is besides what is played on the radio and what i listen to. like, there’s thousands of artists that i'll never hear, but they’ve got a huge following and amazing songs, but i'll just never get the chance to come across their stuff. apparently, you won’t hear your favourite song until you’re like forty. or was it twenty? i’m not quite sure, but i read something like that not too long ago. sorry i've been talking a lot, haven’t i? i think it’s the alcohol getting to me.”

“what? already? you’ve barely finished the bottle!” hansol says, disbelievingly.

“yeah.” seungkwan’s giggling now. “i'm a bit of a lightweight.”

“you don’t drink much?”

“nope. this is my first proper party since middle school. well, i mean besides chan’s fifteenth, but his grandma was there, and there was definitely no alcohol for us.”

“oh wow okay, well i'll make sure you don’t drink too much.”

“i could probably go for another one now, though,” seungkwan says as he drains the rest of his drink. “seriously, this is so good.”

“yeah, well, that’s what makes it so dangerous,” hansol jokes. “c’mon we’ll get you another bottle and a glass of water for later.”

they make a quick trip back to the kitchen to fish out another one of seungkwan’s drinks. a few people stop hansol on their way, but he brushes them off with a polite greeting and a wave.

“i'm not stopping you from talking to your friends, am i?” seungkwan asks self-consciously.

“no way, dude. i see these people all the time. we’ve just met; i want to get to know you, not talk to people who are too drunk to have a proper conversation.”

something in hansol’s answer makes seungkwan’s cheeks flush. or maybe that’s just the alcohol starting to have its effects on him.

when they get back to the room they were before, the couch is empty, so they snag a seat before anyone else can. they lean towards each other, sinking into the soft cushions.

“what am i drinking anyway?” seungkwan asks rhetorically, holding the label up to the light. “huh. vodka and raspberry. not bad at all.” he takes a sizeable gulp as hansol laughs at him.

“i'm glad you like it. meanwhile, i'm drinking this shit,” he says, shake his head at his beer.

“why are you drinking it then? here, have a sip.” seungkwan presses his drink into hansol’s spare hand. he watches as hansol brings it to his lips.

“wow, fuck that’s sweet.”

“i know! how good is it?”

“maybe too sweet for me,” he says, passing it back to seungkwan.

“fine, suit yourself. stick with your sad wheat juice. more for me, anyway.”

“my what?” hansol laughs, eyes crinkling.

“wheat juice. isn’t that what beer is made of?”

hansol just continues laughing, falling into seungkwan’s side. their thighs press together, and seungkwan’s condensation is dripping onto hansol’s jeans. they stay like that, however, even when their giggling fit is over. they lean into each other and whisper into ears even though the music isn’t that loud and they can hear perfectly fine over the sound of everyone else. seungkwan’s breath tickles hansol’s neck, and he fights the urge to shiver. after cycling through different conversation topics, they fall into silence, sipping their drinks and watching the crowd.

seungkwan’s head begins to feel heavy, weighed down by two bottles of raspberry vodka. he rests his head on hansol’s shoulder, a stranger only an hour ago. their worlds shouldn’t be colliding but an overwhelming feeling pulls them to each other.

while hansol rambles on about college next year, seungkwan focuses on the subtle vibrations of hansol’s speech. the low hum from his chest is soothing and seungkwan feels his eyes begin to droop. he sleepily shifts his gaze, no longer looking at the drunken crowd before them but at hansol’s lips. they’re thin but smooth-looking, like hansol actually uses chapstick unlike the rest of the high school’s male population. he likes the way hansol speaks, with an air of ease and a slight smirk pulled to the right.

seungkwan eventually notices the vibrations are gone, and hansol’s stopped talking. instead, he’s searching seungkwan’s eyes and face. his expression is unreadable but his eyes seems to keep drawing back to seungkwan’s lips. his heart starts to beat fasts as they pull towards each other. however, hansol stops suddenly, shaking his head.

god, what was he thinking? seungkwan can’t just kiss anyone he wants, let alone a guy. hansol. you know, the popular football player. in the middle of a house party with the whole school watching. his cheeks flush a violent red and he opens his mouth to apologise, excuse himself and run off, anything because no one has said anything for the last ten seconds and they’re just staring at each other now.

but then hansol grabs his wrist and whispers, “follow me” and leads him through the crowded house. they push their way upstairs and into an unoccupied bathroom. hansol’s barely shut the door when he turns around and pushes seungkwan against the wall.

“can i kiss you?” he asks cautiously. “please tell me i was reading the situation properly?”

seungkwan’s at a loss of words. his mouth is dry and his heart is hammering. this isn’t at all how he thought this night was going to play out. but he bites his lip as he hesitantly nods.

“i need to hear it, seungkwan,” hansol says softly.

“yes, you can kiss me. please.”

hansol breathes out a sigh of relief, his breath fans against seungkwan’s cheeks and he smells like beer but when he moves forward to slide their lips together, seungkwan decides he doesn’t really mind all that much.

seungkwan’s breath falters for a moment before he kisses back, sinking his hands into the soft waves of hansol’s hair. hansol’s kissing with such intensity, fingers gripping seungkwan’s hips that make him moan lowly into his mouth. the music pounds through the thin walls, but it's like the party is a million miles away. everything is muted, like they’re the only two people who exist in this house, on this street, in this entire dead-beat town.

they manage to work together to jostle seungkwan onto the bathroom vanity and hansol slips between his thighs. between the vodka he’s ingested tonight and hansol tongue licking into his mouth, seungkwan’s feeling intoxicated and dizzy. his brain is fuzzy and electricity hums at every point of contact. hansol’s eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, tickling him enough to pull back, unable to hold back a giggle.

“fuck, your mouth is so pretty,” hansol say breathlessly, pressing several quick kisses to his lips. “and i take that back about your drink. it’s not too sweet at all.” he cuts himself off to slip his tongue between seungkwan’s lips again.

seungkwan pulls lightly at the hair above the nape of his neck and hansol groans, pressing harder. their hands roam each other. seungkwan sweeps his fingers over hansol’s broad shoulders, muscular arms and lean chest. hansol continues to squeeze at seungkwan’s hips, sliding him forward enough to grab at his ass.

hansol walks out twenty minutes later, hair ruffled, breathless and with a pink-stained mouth.

three minutes later, seungkwan sneaks back downstairs, hansol’s number in his phone, a secret locked up tight and a bright red tinge to his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't forget i'm @goldenshua on twitter

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi to me on twitter @goldenshua


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